


Mismatched

by shellalana



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anniversary, Gift, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellalana/pseuds/shellalana
Summary: It's the first anniversary since Hammerlock and Torgue became an "item," and they're looking for the perfect gift for each other.





	Mismatched

**Author's Note:**

> A Month of Fanfiction Challenge Day 2: A Rare Pair

Alistair Hammerlock was a gentleman extraordinaire. An expert in the fauna of this planet, with many of their hides and skulls across his walls like trophies. A man raised with the finer things in life - including the veritable silver spoon in his mouth - and a maintained composure despite the planet he now called home. A spot of tea in the afternoon, a light meal with some pleasant music, and the rest of the evening spent jotting down notes of the creatures he spotted through his binoculars from the safety of his wilderness lodge.

And then there was him: the loudmouth man who seemed to be allergic to shirts, addicted to explosions… and a jawline that sparked Hammerlock’s interest on first sight. Never mind the tragedy of a mullet he wore, his constant yelling, or that awful music he headbanged to. Alistair saw past all that to the good intentions that resided in his heart.

Having it surrounded by those wonderful pectorals helped too, of course.

For all his rough and wonderfully hard edges, Torgue expressed an interest in Hammerlock’s studies despite not understanding all of the jargon. His sudden stories about the Crater, Alistair learned, was his own way of finding common ground with analogies that were weak at best, but he had to commend him for the effort. Others in the past, the ones who hadn’t died for their research, had no interest in his expeditions, preferring to shoot whatever came close to satisfy their need for bloodlust or out of fear for their lives. Granted, many - if not all - of the creatures here were mostly carnivorous and had no qualms about ingesting human meat. But that didn’t make them any less interesting to study in their off-murder time.

And Flexington had devoted his time to such interests for the better part of a year. It was definitely a call for celebration.

Alistair backed into the room with a large tray balanced across his arms, laden with enough food for five people.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made you pancakes and omelettes, and knowing your eating habits, we’ll have to go out for more eggs tomorrow. I couldn’t find that… energy drink you were rav-…” He almost lost a hold of the giant breakfast he’d made when he found the room empty of his boyfriend. Instead, he found upturned tables, the mattress shoved off the bed and one Torgue-sized hole in the wall where a window should be.

“Flexington? This isn’t time for another one of your games of hide and find. I have a lot planned for us today, and I’d like to get to it all.” He was trying to maintain his composure as he looked around the room for the object of his affections, though there was nowhere a man of his size could really hide in here. And that meant he was gone.

So much for a one-year anniversary.

Alistair considered whether it was even worth it to send him a message, to question why he’d even left without a word, but he was too enraptured in his own heartache to entertain the notion further. He was just about to carry the tray back into the living area to feast on what he could all by himself when he heard an audible gasp from the hole in the wall.

Mr. Torgue’s was peering in just over the lip of the floor, his mouth agape and sweat running down his face and clinging his hair to his neck. He wasn’t expecting the gentleman hunter to be in his room.

“What in blazes are you-”

“YOU THINK I’D FORGET OUR ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY?! THAT WOULD BE TOTALLY UNCOOL OF ME AND ONE THING MR. TORGUE ISN’T IS UNCOOL!” He hefted himself in the rest of the way with just one arm, the other tucked carefully behind his back. “HERE! I GOT YOU THIS!”

In his hand was a large clear bowl - one of the priceless vases Alistair had kept high on a bookshelf - and in it was brown, murky water and something living inside it. Hammerlock leaned closer, the gizmos of his cybernetic eye going to work to make sense of what he was looking at. Definitely not anything he’d seen around here before.

“I CAUGHT THE LITTLE BUGGER WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS AFTER DIGGING AROUND IN THOSE REEDS! I HADN’T SEEN ANY DRAWINGS OF ‘EM IN THOSE FANCY BOOKS OF YOURS, SO I FIGURED WHAT THE F***!”

Hammerlock winced at the swear, but he supposed he couldn’t hold the uncouth language against him. His lips parted in a smile as he took the all-too-expensive vase from his palm and placed it on the only surface that Torgue had left upright. His heart warmed at the sight of the little creature swimming around in its new prison, and at the thought the large man had put into the gift.

“This is wonderful. And all I made you was breakfast…” He could feel himself flushing embarrassment… but that didn’t last long once he heard the ravenous sounds of eating from over his shoulder.


End file.
